


When Cowards Turn to Soldiers

by orphan_account



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Gen, Les is pure, Someone give Davey a break, The newsboys are trying their best, but we all know how this stories go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 05:18:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19882285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Davey's first day working with the Lower Manhattan newsies.Posted for the 120th anniversary of the newsies strike!





	When Cowards Turn to Soldiers

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Ben Fankhauser's song Belief. Check it out my dudes.  
> I wrote this some time ago, and just now thought of publishing it. Davey's POV of the first day of the newsies strike. So,,, enjoy??

David Jacobs was having a lousy day. He and Les had woken up late, missing the first morning bell. The brothers had gotten ready tripping over each other, stumbling sleepily while trying get their clothes on. Les had thrown a small fit over having to wake up early, and David was already feeling anxiety pump through his veins waiting for what the new day had too offer. This was their first day of being newsboys, after all.

While David shrugged on his vest, he glanced sadly at his textbooks sitting alone by his bed. "You boys are going to have to quit school and work for a bit," his mother had explained only a day before. That was when the Jacob brothers learned that they would work like the other half of the city's children. So, being the obedient boys they were, put down their books and prepared for a newer, albeit temporary, life.

"C'mon David! We're already late. Ma said we should have left ages ago." Les, the younger of the pair pulled at his brother's hand irritably.

"In coming, I'm coming," David replied. He cast one longing look at his textbooks and left their bedroom.

The Jacobs family was not a family that one would consider being poor, but they were also not considered rich. They lived in a three room tenement, with two small bedrooms and a larger room for dining, cooking, and sitting. Although they didn't live grandly, they lived comfortably.

David and Led both kissed their mother and father goodbye and set out onto the streets. There wasn't much time for a quick breakfast. The duo both had a pair of matching bags, ones that their mother had hastily made the day before. They were a creamy white, with rough edges and a tight seam on the bottom. Though it wasn't the finest , in all of New York, but they worked and were comfortable.

The walk to The World was mostly quiet, both boys wondering what the day would bring. It wasn't every day you start a new job, after all. People bustled around them, all lost in their own world. Men in finely tailored suits and women dressed in the latest fashion strolled by, not giving David or Les a second glance. They were just another stranger on the street, just someone they were passing by.

"Hey David?" Les asked in a shy voice. David bit back a groan. His kid brother only used that voice if he wanted something, and this couldn't mean anything good.

"Yes?" He said tiredly.

"I'm hungry." It was all David could do not to put his face in his hands. Now they would be even later. He checked his watch. It was half past five o'clock, so there was a good fifteen minutes before the gates opened. David scanned his surroundings. There weren't many vendors outside in the wee hours of the morning, and the closest shop wasn't open yet.

"Les, there aren't any shops open yet."

"Yah there is! I saw one just a block ago. It was a deli or something. . . " He trailed off, a hopeful look in his eyes. Les tugged at his brother's hand. "Please?"

Damn that kid, thought David as he agreed. "Fine. But if Ma asked why we didn't sell as many papers later today, I'm blaming this all on you." Les jumped up and thanked David profusely, promising that Ma would never know.

They walked to the Deli quickly, not wanting to waste any more precious time. David bought Les a bread roll, and an apple for himself. Together it cost five cents. If the boys saved ten cents for lunch and dinner, then they would only be able to buy and cell twenty papers. By this time it was 5:40, and David and Les had to run to The World to make it in time.

When they reached the front gates, an argument between other boys began to start. The gates opened slowly, each boy filtering in one by one. David and Les followed the kids in front of them; they had no clue what they were doing. A circle surrounded a handful of boys. Two of them were dressed like the brothers, with neatly combed hair and clean clothes. The other two boys were dirty, with old clothes worn down with time.

One of the newsboys, David assumed, was sporting a blue shirt and was side-by-side with a kid, a few years younger than him. The kid had a crutch under his arm and wore his cap backwards. There seemed to be a fight brewing.

David caught snippets of their conversation, though it was hard to here because he was near the back.

"-of that too, you lousy crip?" One of the fancier boys tugged the crutch away from the boy, causing him to fall to the ground. David winced.

"That is not nice Morris!" The boy in the blue shirt sized up Morris while some other boys helped the kid with the crutch up. David, in an involuntary gesture, pushed Les behind him, not wanting his kid brother to get hurt if a fight broke out.

"Five to one Jack skunks him." A boy close to David yelled. He couldn't help but notice the cigar hanging from his mouth. The crowd of boys agreed.

The boy in blue- Jack- picked up the crutch and sauned over to Morris and who David could only assume was his brother. "One unfortunate day you might find you got a bum gam of your own. How'd you like us pickin' on you, huh?" Jack turned around, making a big show of the argument. His eyes glinted with what David could only describe as malice. "Hey! Maybe we should find out!"

Jack quickly took the crutch and hit the legs of Morris and his brother. They both fell to the ground, much like the kid before them had. The brothers both got up as quickly as they had fallen, fists ready.

"Just wait till I get my hands on you." One of them threatened, lunging at Jack.

"You gotta catch me first!" He broke off running, crutch still in hand. Within a few moments, all three of them were gone from view, having darted into an ally. Someone hooted gleefully and cheered on Jack.

David seemed to be the only one worried about Jack, for he hadn't appeared for a few minutes. He was right about to ask a newsboy if Jack would be okay right when he strolled back in, grinning. He tossed the crutch back the the kid then lined up with the other boys. David, noticing that everyone was in line but him, managed to fit him and Les somewhere near the midpoint.

"Papes for the newsies; line up!" A gruff voice shouted. A man, plus the two brothers from earlier were handing out papers to the newsboys. Slowly, the lone started moving.

"Mornin' Weasel. You miss me?" David's jaw dropped. Did Jack ever know how to shut up? He had just gotten back from a fight and now he was just begging for a shiner. What even surprised him more was that the boys had the nerve to laugh!

"The name's Weisel."

"Ain't that what I said? I'll take the usual." Jack slammed his coin onto the wooden box by the stand.

"Hundred papes for the wise guy." One hundred papers. That seemed like a small fortune, but who was David to judge? Maybe the kid came from money. David's palms started to sweat as the line moved farther and farther ahead, coming closer to him. What if he was the only new kid? What if the other newsboys shunned him for it? As much as he hated it, the line still progressed.

"How's it goin' Weasel?" It was the kid with the cigar.

"At least call me Mista'." Weisel exclaimed, clearly losing his patience with the boys. David could see why.

"I'll call you sweetheart if you spot me fifty papes."

Papes. Not papers, papes. David made a not to himself to call them just that, so he could fit in just a little bit more. Les muttered something about hurrying up behind him. At least one of them was excited. Then again, Les was only nine years old, and he didn't understand the gravity of the situation they were in. If the Jacobs didn't get money, then they wouldn't be able to pay rent. If they didn't pay rent, then they would be kicked onto the streets with no way to pay the hospital bills for their father. The line was progressing faster. David's thoughts became more of a mess, so much that he didn't even realized it was almost his turn.

"Good mornin', Mr . Weisel." The kid with the crutch said as he placed his coins down.

"Fifty papes for Crutchie." This was it. David wiped his hands on his pants and slowly walked forward, Les close behind him.

"Hey, look at this! A new kid." Weisel said.

Les happened to choose that exact moment to speak up, much to David's annoyance.

"I'm new too!" He jumped out from behind David, grinning wildly.

"Les!" David muttered trying to get him to move out of the way. He wouldn't budge.

"Don't worry kid, it rubs right off." That damn cigar kid. The other newsboys laughed alongside him, much to David's embarrassment. He could feel his face heat up, no doubt bright red.

"I- I'll take twenty newspapers, please." It wasn't until David had said this that he realized he had said newspapers instead of papes. He chided himself silently.

"Twenty papes for the new kid." Weisel looked at him expectantly. David blinked, confused. Was he supposed to do something? "Hey, hey, let's see the dime."

Oh, the dime. "We'll pay you when I sell them." After all, he did have to make up what he lost for buying him and Les breakfast.

Weisel laughed. It was short, and full of contempt. "Funny kid, real funny. C'mon. Cash up front." 

"But whatever I don't sell, you buy back. Right?" David could almost feel everyone of the boys watching them. It was as if they were his audience, watching his entire life play out, mistakes and all. He started to blush again.

"Oh! Certainly! And everytime you lose a tooth, I put a penny under your pillow." Weisel glanced at the two brothers helping out and jerked a thumb in David's direction. "This kid's a riot. Come on, cough up the cash or go."

David solemnly retrieved the dime and placed it gently on the box, then gathered his papers. No- papes. Les followed behind him, feet dragging slightly. It seemed that he didn't like being the center of attention after all.

"Albert! Let's see your money." The line continued to move forward, the sound of cash slamming onto the wooden box and pages turning becoming the only sound except for the faint chatter of conversation.

"Can I have my papers?" Les asked, trying to reach for them in David's hands. He moved them away before he could reach them, though.

"Not yet, I need to count them." David leafed through them. Certain words came into his focus such as trolley, strike, and scabs. He continued to leaf through them until he reached the end. But that couldn't be. He had bought twenty, not nineteen. David quickly counted them again, ending on the same number. Nineteen. Not wanting to be cheated from his money, he spoke up.

"Sorry, excuse me, I paid for twenty, but you gave me nineteen." At everyone's confused looks, he spoke a bit louder. "Papes, I mean." David winced. the word 'papes' had rolled off his tongue roughly, sounding odd.

"I know you were talking about- you seee how nice I was to this new kid here? And what do I get for my civility? Ungrounded accusations."

David shrunk back, but kept talking. Les was right: he really didn't know when to shut his big mouth. "I just wanted what I paid for."

"He said beat it." One of the brothers slammed his hand down on the papes, trying to intimidate David.

Jack snatched the papes from David, and, before he could protest, counted the papes himself. "New kid's right Weasel, you gave him nineteen." He slammed the papers onto David's chest. "I'm sure it's an honest mistake, considerin' how Oscar can't count to twenty with his shoes on."

Oscar, the other brother, lunged towards Jack but was held back by Weisel. He slammed a paper into David's chest who clung to it before putting it back into his stack. "Here's you paper. Take a hike."

"You know what? Give the new kid fifty more papes."

David opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Was Jack serious? "I don't need more papes." Again that word stuck to his tongue like molasses.

Jack looked at him as if he had grown another head. "Uh, what kind of newsie don't want more papes?"

"I'm not a charity case! Besides, I don't even know you guys." David grabbed his brother's hand and began to walk away, but Les had other ideas.

"His name's Jack!" So he had been paying attention.

"Yeah, this here is the famous Jack Kelly!" It was the kid with the crutch. David got a closer look at him. He had light brown eyes and dark blonde hair. The kid appeared to be about fourteen, maybe fifteen by a stretch. "He once escaped jail on the back of Teddy Roosevelt's carriage. Made all the papes!"

"Say, how old are you kid?" Jack asked, now kneeling near Les so he was the boy's height.

"I'm ten. . . well, almost."

"Well, if anyone asks, you're seven. You could look it too. Everyone knows that younger sells more papes, and if we're gonna be partners-"

"Who says we want partners?" David interrupted. He didn't know what these kids did, and he didn't want Les to hang around a bad crowd. From the look of the boys, they were very rambunctious and didn't know when to back down.

"Selling with Jack is the chance of a lifetime. If you learn from him, you learn from the best. He's known the ropes for years now." The boy with the crutch paused and sent a grin in David's direction. "I'm Crutchie, by the way."

"Huh, nice to meet you." David tried not to notice why Crutchie was called Crutchie. He put his attention back to Jack. "Well, if he's the best, then what does he need with us? It's still our first day."

" 'Cause you gotta little brother, and I don't. With that mug we can easily sell a thousand papes without even tryin'. Look sad, kid." Les made a sad face, the very one that David had seen less than an hour ago.

"Ha! We're gonna make millions!" One can only hope, David thought.

"This is my brother David. I'm Les."

"It's nice to meet you, Davey. My two bits come off the top, and we split everything else 70-30."

"Wait- Davey? My name is David." He exclaimed.

"Just go with it." The boy with the cigar said. David still had to learn his name.

"50-50! You wouldn't try and pull a fast one on a little kid." Les crossed his armed and tried to look angry. Keyword tried. Jack simply chuckled and shook his head.

"60-40, and that's my final offer." Davey met Les's eyes and nodded. They could work with that.

"Deal!" What happened next was what Davey would remember for the rest of his life. It was a sort of acceptance into the group of Newsies, confirming that you were one of them. Jack spit on his hand and held it out to Les.

"That's disgusting." Davey said as bluntly as he could. Did they realize that's how people got sick? He watched Les do the same.

"That's just business." Jack stood up on a pile of papers and yelled to all the newsies. "Newsies! Hit the streets. The sun is up, the headline stinks, and this kid ain't getting any younger." Dozens of boys (and a few girls) filtered through the gates once more, ready to sell.

"Les, you're with me!" Jack yelled. Les looked over at Davey, a pleading look in his eyes.

"Can I go? Please? I promise I'll me careful." Davey paused. Should he really trust Les with Jack, an (almost) complete stranger? He bit his lip, unsure.

"Fine. Just. . . be safe, alright?" Davey fought the urge to hug Les. He was much too old for that, anyway. He simply nodded, and watched his kid brother run off with Jack, skipping merrily. Davey looked down at the headline. Trolley Strike Enters Third Week. It was quite dull of a headline in his opinion.

Deciding it was best to get a move on, he shouldered his bag and walked past the gates of The World. Davey knew that these next few days would be boring and painstakingly slow, but it was the least he could do to help his family.


End file.
